The Body in Her Cake
by HarpD
Summary: The title says it all but expect 'Booth plays hero to Bones' reluctant heroine' scenario a couple of times. My first fanfic for Bones so let me know what you think..Bones, Bones, glorious Bones!...ahem. T rating is for future chapters.. Chapt 3 is up!
1. Happy Birthday!

Disclaimer: He he. Almost forgot to do this. Ahem, all characters and events in this story are purely fictitious, therefore, all and any similarity to a real person, living or dead is entirely coincidental and unintended by she who wrote this. Absolutely no connection to anyone involved in the TV show, scrambles to hide banner with "Booth-I want to have your baby" on it

_Note: This is my first Bones fic, but I absolutely adore the show and since I have some time on my hands I decided to give myself the romantic suspense story with the ending it will take the show seasons, yes seasons i tell you, to get to._

_Chapter 1of The Body in his Cake_

_Happy Birthday_

His creation was spectacular, the lines smooth and the colour vibrant in all its splendour.

He turned to bow to his crowd, his arms outstretched as he bent forward at the waist, his right leg crooked behind the left to facilitate the movement. His dark eyes shone with satisfaction, his heart thumping quickly with the sense of accomplishment and glory that suffused his senses.

Turning back, the shadow of his creation fell across his toes, the slanted darkness calling him into its secrets, the hidden joy a siren song. Resisting the urge to take a second look, to pick at the pink crepe paper so artfully arranged, he removed all traces of his work, of the mechanics involved in the contraption before leaving by the back door of the warehouse.

With the soft click of the closed door, the stillness of the darkness, the unmoving hollowness of existence in that warehouse enveloped the single object in its midst, a proverbial time bomb amidst the snow.

* * *

"Bones!"

Calling to his partner as he loped up the stairs to the elevated platform in the Jeffersonian Medical Lab, Special Agent Seeley Booth swiped his card through the console as he passed and ignored the look of welcome both Hodgins and the kid threw his way as they scurried from their little corners. How long had it been since their last case together anyway?

"Seeley Booth."

Booth froze, his back ramrod straight and what can only be expressed as a look of stunned bemusement came over his handsome features.

"What?" he asked timidly, walking towards Bones where she stood at a metal gurney, overlooking the remains of a Russian miner brought in two days ago, her gloved finger running over the eyebrow, noticing a deep cut.

"I think you scared him, sweetie." Angela Montenegro came to stand beside her best friend, her arms crossed over the clip board she held to her chest and grinning mischievously at the hot special-come-and-get-it agent standing before them.

"I don't understand what you mean." Brennan replied distractedly, her attention solely focused before her, shrugging the hair that fell forward back over her shoulder and shifting to get a better view of the skull.

"There are only two people who call me by my full name Bones; my mother and the mail-man. And my mother did it only when I walked in with mud all over me and got caught with my dirt covered hand in the cookie jar right after. Oh, and when she caught me with the neighbour's daughter on the couch. Ah, lovely Susie Walters." Resting one hand against the side of the metal slab, he threw the ladies on of his trademark charmers, the black material of his suit coat molding to the contours of his chest.

"I was hoping to inspire you to stop calling me Bones, Booth, not give you a free pass down memory lane" Bones said this as she straightened, slapping sharply at the hand that rested on the metal surface, ignoring the chuckles that came from Angela when the tough agent yelped and proceeded to wave the same hand in the air with a pained expression on his face.

"Dr Brennan."

"Yes Zack?"

"I think we have a case."

"Booth do we have a case?"

"We have a case." Replied the agent, smirking as he noticed the gleam that came to his partner's eyes.

"We have a case!" yelled Hodgins, throwing his hands up in the air. Noticing the glare that Brennan threw his way, he subsided, the smile gone from his face.

"A case with a cake," intoned Booth, grinning widely at the confusion that appeared on all and every face among the squint squad. _Hah, 1 for Booth. Let's ignore the corresponding statistic for now.._

"Cake?" Bones questioned, her face drawn into a frown, her hands tucked into the pockets of her blue Jeffersonian Institute labcoat.

"Cake." Booth agreed, turning to walk towards Breanan's office, grinning at the scramble behind him.

_This is just the first chap, so I am trying to work out the kinks. The plot's gonna get a little more interesting from now onwards so tell me what you think so far and become instantly a potent inspiration…pretty please?_


	2. One, Two, Three

Disclaimer: Look to chapter 1.

_Author's Note: Ok, I am going get a little more serious here, while not skimping on the comical interactions between our favourite duo of course..tell me what you think..and those of you who thought the cake was a big joke, I'll admit I feel great pleasure in dashing your misconceptions. lol Anyway, hope you enjoy it and let me know what you think..  
_

Chapter 2: One, Two Three..

"Wow."

"Zack?"

"I mean, just..Wow."

"Zack!" Looking up at him from where she stood examining the remains, Brennan's tone demanded his attention. He had been standing there staring at the scene they both beheld a little longer than she deemed professionally necessary.

"Sorry, Dr Brennan." Feeling suitably chastised, his scruffy hair falling forward as his head fell, he came to stand beside her, ready for her instructions.

Turning her attention back to examining the bones that Booth had brought her to, Brennan began to recite off the series of evidence bags and solution she needed to prepare the remains for transfer.

Zack, taking a final look at what had captured his amazement only moments before, scurried off to meet her requests, heading towards the Medical van he drove to these sites,

Booth, watching from afar even as he took down the statements of two teenagers that had come across the scene while scouting for a suitable place to make out, away from parental supervision, shared the young apprentice's amazement, just not due to the same motive.

It was Temperance Brennan who captured his admiration, even as unwittingly as the admission came, the fact that she had barely reacted when she had arrived at the scene. Looking beyond her, his eyes ran over the mid-size contraption that held the decayed remains in its bowels. Cardboard painted cream white and arranged perfectly, pink crepe paper lining the sides of each level, right down to the cover that held five separate candles, whoever left this had put a lot of effort into ensuring that it came as close to your archetypal birthday cake as possible.

When the teenagers had crossed the floor of the warehouse, they had tripped a wire that had caused the intact skeleton to plunge through the top cardboard layer of the cake like a morbid 'jack- in – the- box'. Built carefully, the attention to detail and the extensive preparation told Booth instantly that he wasn't dealing with his run of the mill killer, this was someone who wanted to play a game, who had stipulated the rules and expected the cops to act like puppets at his behest.

Turning back to the sweating teens, he began "Yup, that's all I need from you to. I'll just get someone to drive you home. You can explain to your parents why you were dropped off by the local PD, right?" Flipping his leather notepad shut, Booth tucked his pen into his jacket pocket, weaving his way through the people from the crime scene unit, headed towards Bones.

"Ok, Bones, what have you got for me?" She stood as close as she could to the outside of the cake contraption, her eyes surveying the remains carefully, her hair tied into a easy ponytail, her neck arched as she stared upwards.

The sunlight that came through the upper windows of the abandoned warehouse rested directly on her face, outlining her cheekbones and the curve of her neck while enhancing the red highlights in her hair. Her obliviousness, her obvious lack of interest in how attractive she could seem at the moment to her partner only drew Booth to her more.

"Male, early to mid-thirties, approximately 200 pounds. What is interesting is that these remains have been extensively cleaned, but I can't be sure by who because it's also obvious that the body was already embalmed." Turning to look at Booth, she crossed her arms on her chest.

Jerking to attention, Booth frowned. "Wait, you mean..these bones were prepared for burial, but then cleaned again before being placed in, well, this?"

"Precisely. Although we are definitely looking for a killer." Her brows rose as Temperance said this, taking pleasure in the confusion that flitted across Booth's face. Turning to talk to someone from the retrieval unit, she barely got a word out before Booth had moved swiftly to intercept her, his palms facing forward in front of him.

"Whoa, Bones. You want to fill me in here? Please?" Giving her one of his trademark charmers, he straightened when he saw her turn back to the bones.

"There are obvious cut marks along the throat, here" her finger gesturing upwards, Booth's gaze could only follow, "and here. The angle of the cuts would mean that someone first stabbed and then slashed at the victim's throat."

Lifting his hand to massage his own throat, Booth grimaced and then asked, "The question is, is the person who placed him here his killer, or just some sick bastard who likes to dig up bodies already buried?"

Catching her eye, he knew it was what Bones had been thinking too.

* * *

Watching the panaroma of Washington D.C. fly by, the silence in the large tank of a car began to register and she glanced at her partner in the driver's seat, wondering where his thoughts were, his eyes glassy even as his hands moved expertly over the wheel. 

"Booth," hard and demanding, she called for his attention.

Glancing at her even as he maneuvered a turn at a junction, he replied.

"Bones."

Turning back to the scenery, she made a face.

"Why are you so quiet?"

"Psychology, Bones?"

"Where are we going?" she decided to avoid all and any potential conflict, knowing that at a start of a new case they both needed to stay focused.

_Then perhaps you would stop admiring his side profile.._

"The trip-wire the teenagers found had a card attached to it. It was addressed to a Patrick Zimmer. We're going to his last known address, although he has had quite a few over the last few years according to our records."

"We were prehistorically conditioned to be normadic people, frequently shifting to accommodate hunting grounds and seasons."

Glancing at her, Booth reached for a packet of peanuts, using his teeth to rip open the top, and all that could be heard for a few seconds in the car was loud crunching.

Finally, as he swallowed, Booth smiled at Bones as she sat there staring at him and said, "Ok, Bones."


	3. Blow!

Bones: The Body in her Cake

Disclaimer: Look to chapt 1..

_A/N: Thank you for all your lovely reviews, it means a lot to this amateur writer. Enjoy! _

Chapter 3: Blow…

Pulling the car to the curb, Booth noticed how still the neighborhood seemed, no children riding their bikes or old couples sitting out on the porch, watching the world go by.

"It seems deserted," Bones remarked, stepping out from the car, her dark green jacket flapping in the gust of wind as she slammed the door behind her. Her eyes fixed on the three-story building in front, she did not notice Booth wince.

"Bones, easy with the car." Tucking his sunglasses into the inner pocket of his suit jacket, he moved around the car to join her. Bones glanced at him, resisting the altogether juvenile gesture of rolling her eyes.

_Maybe I am spending too much time around him.._

Moving up the sidewalk, Bones matching Booth's strong strides, he took a quick inventory of the windows and exits of the place. His brown eyes ran over the run-down dark green porch that ran across the front of the decrepit old building, the dust that layered the screen door and the downstairs windows.

Climbing up the stairs, Booth gingerly stepped on each step, worried at its stability and strength. He turned to warn Bones, his hand lifting on its own accord, but she had surpassed him, already reaching for the screen door. Dropping his hands, he loped up the remaining distance, calling, "Bones!"

She turned around, eyes squinting as the sun hit Booth's back and directly at her face, her hand rising to shade her eyes. "What?"

"See, when we agreed you could go out into the field with me, the assumption was that you would follow _my_ lead, Bones. So step back, and let me handle all possible human interactions," using one hand to gently push her back, he smiled blandly at the look of irritation she threw his way, the way her brows came together in a cute little frown more endearing than she could possibly know.

"Someone's ego need a little extra petting today, Booth?"

Losing the smile, Booth banged his knuckles on the door, keeping his eyes on her and the toothy grin she was giving him as they waited.

"Mr Zimmer!" he called, when after ten seconds there was still no answer and from what he could tell, no movement inside the apartment.

"Federal Agent, Mr Zimmer! Open up!" he yelled, watching Bones as she walked to the nearest window, using her sleeve to rub the dirt off to take a look inside.

"The place is a mess, Booth. And from the way the furniture is left haphazardly, I think it's been this way for a while now." She straightened to look at him.

Reaching for the doorknob, Booth frowned. The knob was polished clean and looked very new for a building supposedly abandoned.

Pushing the door open slowly with his forearm, the other hand reached for his gun, his quick pointed look at Bones warning her to stay back.

_Ofcourse, she just boldly walked past him.._

Both arms extended infront of him, elbows crooked to afford leverage, Booth moved swiftly into the foyer, his eyes taking in all dark corners and doorways easily. Moving into the room to the right of the door, stepping carefully over the chair left on its side on the dusty wooden floor, it took about a second before he saw it.

"Bones, you need to see this!" he yelled, hearing her footsteps as she walked quickly up behind him from the other room across from the foyer. Her eyes were locked on him, but shifted to the direction he was looking to.

Booth watched her as she took it in, his eyes concerned and his gun hand dropping.

"Bones," he spoke softly, his body shifting instinctively closer to hers.

"I don't understand, Booth." She stepped closer to the wall, her hand reaching to trace the words on the wall, her throat a little dry and her heart thumping just that much harder.

_Happy Birthday, Dr Brennan! _

The exclamation macabre, the stark red paint was macabre to say the least as it spelled out words so seemingly innocuous.

Booth's eyes stayed on her face, his body angling to get a better look at the words even as he gauged how she took it all in. She was the strongest person he knew, but that only meant that she absorbed most of the pain and fear she had to endure, not because she was always immune to it. And Booth's instincts were screaming at him, keeping up the call that had never ended since the incident with Kenton.

That was why he heard the short and sharp little 'click' so clearly, his heart stopping as memories of a time he would rather forget, in places he would rather forget, for jobs he would rather forget, came rushing back in one fell swoop.

"Bones!" he yelled, one hand grabbing her upper arm, the grip tight and bruising in his panic, and ignorant to her protests his other hand held the curve of her waist, forcing her to keep still.

"No! Bones, I need you to listen to me very carefully. Don't argue! Just keep very still, okay?" his eyes desperate, wild with panic and fear, her struggles to be released subsided quickly, her own eyes caught with his.

Booth had no time to savor the feel of her waist, or at being so close to the woman that for a while now he found himself inadvertently longing to talk to or just be around. He was bending down, trying to get a closer look at the piece of contraption responsible for the menacing 'click'.

A pressure trigger.

His heart in his throat, Booth kept his hand on Bones' left boot, trying to gauge the mechanics involved, whether there was a failsafe.

Whoever had done this knew exactly what he was doing because it was one of the more sophisticated constructions Booth had seen, even in the fields of Kosovo. If Bones lifted her foot, if Bones even_ shifted_ her weight the slightest bit, it would set off the home-made bomb he saw resting behind the beaten sofa, wires wrapped around a grey block of industrial C4..

"Booth? Tell me that is not what I think it is?" he voice was strong, but Booth easily detected the underlying tension, the tightening of her leg muscles, stiff and unyielding.

Looking up at her, his eyes betraying his abject fear and panic, he searched for the words to answer, the words to explain. It was difficult, because he barely knew how to explain all this to himself.

"It's a bomb, Bones. You move this foot," the clamp of his hand on her boot tightened to illustrate, " even the slightest bit and it will set the trigger off. Just..don't move, Bones." His last words seemed weak to him, but the force behind them, the worry was obvious.

Staring down at her foot, Dr Temperance Brennan, a woman who thought she could be shocked by very little, felt her eyes widening and tried to resist the weight that seemed to slam onto her heart..

"Damn," she whispered, her eyes shifting quicly back to his from where he stared at her on his haunches.


End file.
